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Anticipation of Santa

Yes, I have grown up. Grown up enough to realise how stupid I was in my childhood. But there is something that I still cherish. Those wintry nights…
I wonder why my parents used to do this. Since Kinder Garten, I have been believing in Santa Claus. My parents used to say that if I studied well the whole year, Santa would be pleased, would reach me at midnight and place a gift next to my pillow while I am asleep. As I was too sincere to miss Santa’s gift, every 25th December morning I woke up to find chocolates next to me.
I started believing in Santa. I wondered how did he manage to reach my bed when all the doors of my house were locked during the night. Maybe he had duplicate keys to my main gate, but how did he unlock the doors? Is my roof removable with some screws attached to it which he uses his own technique to get into? No no, that’s not possible. Maybe he hides himself under my bed the previous day and I am unconscious about it. But still that’s not done, I mean he had to distribute gifts to other sincere children like me. So how would he escape in that case, and so on. I also tried to discuss it among my friends but they laughed at me. I wondered, Am I the most studious child among my friends? Numerous fantasies crept into and left through my mind about that old man. And finally, in std 8 I came to the conclusion that Santa is an angel and angels have the power to appear and vanish wherever and whenever they wish to. Even though I wasn’t confident about my assumption, I tried my level best to remain awake to watch out for that angel but my bad, I couldn’t.
At the age of fifteen, I got my mind setup, I was determined that I had to remain awake at any cost to break the suspense. But again I feared that Santa would go away if he comes to know that I am not asleep. So I pretended to be lost in my sleep. Later at night, I heard the creak sound of my door being opened. Oh damn! My dream has finally come true! And then I hear a conversation…
“Is she slept?” “Yes, obviously. Its 1 am.” “Let us keep it here and leave soon.” And the door got shut. Tears filled my closed eyes. My heart broke into pieces. It was my parents. How stupid have I been all these years that I believed in Santa. Was it a dream that I dreamt just now? I have been kept in such darkness and I never tried to come out of it? I cursed myself for being awake that night. I wish I had never got to know the truth.

I'm Michelle. This is my blog. I write about women and fatness, expound upon semi-coherent thoughts I have in the middle of the night, and offer tough love to those in whom I am disappointed; they are legion.